Перевести текст. i was wondering the other day where all the grannies had gone. i don't mean the people who are grannies because they have grandchildren, but the ones who used to be about when i was younger. i think a granny ought to look a certain way, so that it sticks out a mile that she is one. ideally she should be smallish and round - comfy and cosy. it would be nice if she sat in a rocking chair and crocheted. by a warm fire - a real one - not your posh electric or gas ones with artificial flames and logs. i think she ought to wear her slippers, and have a canary in a cage, and a window sill with geraniums. her hair would be that snowy-white that shows up a pale pink skin and very bright eyes, and she'd smile a lot. i forgot the cat. there should be a cat purring by the fire. the kettle would always be ready to make a pot of tea, and there would be home-made cakes. the trouble as i see it is that today's grannies all look wrong. they don't have white hair any more -they have a rinse. they wear make-up and have national health teeth and go dashing about playing bingo, and don't sit and be cosy anymore. my grannies would have time to listen to one's grumbles and make soothing noises, and when you touched them, they would be soft and yielding, like cushions. the modern ones are all slimline and brittle, and are too busy moving about the place. , i think we should set about seeing if we can't bring back the old-time granny. there's a need for them - they've left a huge gap in our lives. we can all do with somewhere and somebody we can go to and be 'cosy' every so often. still, perhaps nobody but me feels this way. i suppose i'm always thinking backwards instead of forwards, but i'd still like my old grannies back again. it's a sobering thought that i may be a granny myself one day, though. at the moment, i don't fancy sitting and rocking, with a cat or anything else. or crocheting and making pots of tea and little buns, and smiling all the time and being cosy. i think i would want to head for the great outdoors and the bingo hall, and have my hair and teeth fixed, too. i suppose, if the experts are right and we're all going to live longer than ever before, my old grannies are completely redundant. no, i've just got to face the facts, stop going backwards and move with the times. i shall try to put the idea out of my mind. margaret cregan

Мне было интересно, на днях, где все бабульки ушли. Я не имею в виду людей, бабулек, потому что они
есть внуки, но те, кто раньше о том, когда я был моложе. Я считаю, что бабушки должны выглядеть определенным образом, так, что я же вижу, что она одна. В идеале она должна быть низеньким и круглым удобные и уютные. Было бы неплохо, если бы она сидела в кресле-качалке и вязать крючком. Теплый огонь - настоящий - не ваш шикарный электрические или газовые с искусственным пламенем и журналы. Я думаю, что она должна носить ее тапочки, и канарейка в клетке, и подоконник с геранью. Ее волосы бы то, что снежно-белый, который появляется бледно-розовая кожа и очень светлые глаза, и она улыбалась много. Я забыл кота. Там должна быть кошка мурлычет у огня. Чайник всегда будет готов сделать чаю, и там будет домашняя выпечка. Беда как мне видится заключается в том, что сегодняшние бабушки все выглядит неправильно. У них нет белых волос больше -у них есть полоскание. Они носят макияж и Национального здоровья зубов и идти снования играя в Бинго, и не сидеть и быть уютными больше. Мои бабульки будут иметь время, чтобы прислушаться к своему ворчит и сделать успокаивающие шумы, и когда вы коснулись их, то они будут мягкие и податливые, как подушки. Современными исследователями все тонкие и ломкие, и слишком занят, двигая об этом месте. Я думаю, что мы должны ставить о том, чтобы увидеть, если мы не можем вернуть старые времена бабушка. Есть потребность в них - они оставили огромный пробел в нашей жизни. Мы можем все сделать с где-то и кем-то мы можем пойти и быть "уютным" каждый так часто. Еще никто кроме меня не чувствует этот путь. Я думаю, я всегда думаю назад вместо вперед, но я бы хотел, чтобы мои старые бабульки обратно. Это отрезвляет мысль, что я может быть бабушка сама однажды, правда. На данный момент, мне не нравится сидеть и качалка, с кошкой или что-нибудь еще. Или вязать крючком и делать горшки чая и маленькой булочки, и улыбается все время и уютный. Я думаю, что я бы хотела, чтобы голова на свежем воздухе и Бинго-холла, и уже мои волосы и зубы тоже. Я думаю, если эксперты правы и мы все будем жить дольше, чем когда-либо прежде, мои старые бабульки совершенно излишним. Нет, я просто должен смотреть фактам в лицо, перестать ходить задом наперед и двигаться в ногу со временем. Я постараюсь вложить идею из головы. Маргарет Креган

1. london is a capital of great britain. 2. london stands on the river thames. 3. this is a very big sity. 4. there are many intresting place in london. 5. the famous clock big ben stands near the houses of parlament. 6. the houses of parlament stand beside the river thames. 13. the tower of london is very old. 7. the tall building is the white tower, the oldest part of the tower of london. 8. the queen of britain does not live in the tower. 9. when the queen is in london, she stays in buckingham palace. 10. standing not far from the houses of parlament, westminster abbey is a symbol of england. 11. the coronation all british kings and queens takes place in westminster abbey. 12. some famous england people buried also here. 14. big ben is really the bell.

The policeman on the beatings moved impressively up the avenue. impressiveness was familiar and not for the show, it was not enough for the audience. cold wind gusts, with the taste of rain, took the streets out of sight.kwd offici made beautiful pictures of the keeper of the world. it was an area that held early in the morning. approximately halfway along a certain block, the policeman suddenly slowed down his walk. in the doorway of the hardware store, the man bent down with an unlit cigar in his mouth. "it's all right, officer," he said, "i'm waiting for a friend, it's been set twenty years ago." it sounds a little funny, does not it? "the man lit his cigar. the light showed a pale, square facewith sharp eyes and a small white scar near the right eyebrow."twenty years ago," said the man, "i dined here, in the" big joe "brady with jimmy wells, my best friend and the guy from "fi nest" in the world.we grew up here in new york, like two brothers. i was eighteenand jimmy was twenty. the next morning i had to start on the westgrow rich. you could not get jimmy out of new york .; he thought that this was the only place on earth. well, we agreed that nightthat we will meet again here exactly twenty years after this date andtime, no matter what our conditions could be or from the distance weperhaps, has come. at twenty, each of us must have our own destinydeveloped and made our fortunes, whatever they were. ""it sounds pretty interesting. did not you hear from your friendwhen did you leave? "the policeman asked." well, the west is a pretty big offer. but i know that jimmy will meet me here if he is alive, because he was always the most faithful, the most faithful old man in the world. he will never forget, although we have long lost touch with each other. "" quite good in the west, is not it? "i hope jimmy did half as well.i had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile." " i'll be on my way. i hope your friend will be back soon, "the policeman said and left. he waited about twenty minutes before a tall man in a long coat, with a collar turned to his ears, went up to him. "is that you, bob? " he asked doubtfully. "i was sure i'd find you here." you've changed a lot, jimmy. i never thought you were so tall, two or three inches. doing well in the newyork, jimmy? "" moderately. i have a position in one of the city departments. come on, we'll go somewhere and have a good chat, bob. "the two men went out into the street, hand in hand. a man from the west, his selfishness, enhanced by success, began to delineate the history of his career. the other, lost in a coat, listened with interest. when they entered the gleam of some electric lights, a man from the west suddenly stopped and released his hand. "you're not jimmy wells," he snapped. "twenty years is a long time, but not enough to change the male nose from roman to pug.""it sometimes turns a good person into a bad person," the tall man said. "you're under arrest, shelki bob. chicago thinks that you may have fallen on our way and the wires that she wants to talk to you. before we go to the station, here's the note i was asked to convey to you. it's from patrol wells. you can read it here. "a man from the west unfolded a small piece of paper. his hand began to tremble when he finished reading. the note was rather short